


When it’s so Dark, a Candle isn’t Enough to Save You

by Feline_Acrobat



Series: Sanders Sides Oneshots [6]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Gen, Logic | Logan Sanders Is A Good Friend, Suicidal Thoughts, roman is depressed, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29249304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feline_Acrobat/pseuds/Feline_Acrobat
Summary: “Member left. Member left. Member left.” Roman’s day has gone to shit. Everything is bad and he is so damn alone. He’s sitting on the edge, dangling by a frayed string and it’s snapping piece by piece. He’s losing that grip on life that he used to have. He doesn’t feel like there’s any one who would care anyways, but life finds a way sometimes to put the right people in the right spot at the right time. Sometimes, you really can be saved.
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders
Series: Sanders Sides Oneshots [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147670
Kudos: 14





	When it’s so Dark, a Candle isn’t Enough to Save You

**Author's Note:**

> i had Another bad day when i wrote this. i had visited online friends and when i got back the gc was dead and they left our dm chats so i had a bad time. oh and then like a month later everything came to a head and the gc got deleted and i havent talked to any of them since. this still hurts but im better now.

Member left.

Member left.

Member left.

Roman was already having a bad day. When he looked online to see all his friends had left their group chat, he slammed his computer closed and went for a walk. It was early November and below freezing out already. He skipped the jacket, barely stopping to slip on his sneakers before stepping out. He stuffed his already freezing hands in his jeans pockets and looked up at the sky to prevent the drops from his eyes the chance to roll down his cheeks. His parents weren’t listening. They never really listened. They weren’t being malicious, he knew that, but god he just wanted to throw himself into the ocean sometimes with how they responded to his attempts at communication. No dad, it doesn’t get easier to wake up in the morning, its still terrible and he still just wants to hole up and cry instead of going to school. No dad, just because he’s always done that chore doesn’t mean its going to be easy, especially as more and more people move in. It’s one thing to clean for 3 people, but 12 is a whole other thing. His spine aches just thinking about standing over the sink for hours at a time scrubbing futilely. His feet sore from hours on his feet after an already terrible school day. His fingers cruelly remind him of the feel on his hands, the tremors shoot through his nerves remembering the sensation that makes him want to tear his skin off bit by bit with his own teeth. His ears ring that horrid sound, the squeak that makes him want to drop to the ground and cry from how bad his brain is hurting. He keeps walking. He doesn’t know where to, but he continues.

They really did love him, he knows this more than anything, and he loves them too but… but dammit, they never gave him a chance; bribing him to get the impossible done, trivializing his problems, equating him to some other ‘normal’ kid. He couldn’t stand it. He had his phone taken a few days ago, over the 4-day weekend he had, and he was devastated, he was wanting to spend time with some friends. He also had wanted to get things done. He needed to shower, he needed to do homework, but he also had to do chores, and unfortunately, he never had energy for anything else after them. His mind swirled with deadlines, but he couldn’t do it, he was out of energy, he had been pulling from his reserves for two weeks and now he was overdrawn, and he couldn’t muster up enough to do anything else. He had been hit with a bout of depression recently and that with all of the shit that had taken place that week and his self-loathing, he was teetering off the edge and he was terrified of snapping and blowing his lights out. He shook his head, attempting to pull his thoughts away from there.

As he walked, he saw it start to snow. He grimaced, ignoring it in favor of continuing onwards. He passed the McDonalds and felt his lips tug upwards, remembering when him and a bunch of his friends had gone before tearing through the shopping center like lunatics. He remembered their smiling faces, their jingling laughter, and then was haunted by their faces of judgement and disgust. He pointedly looked forwards, trying to focus on walking. He passed his school, empty and dark on Saturday, and remembered when he and his friends would scream and howl with laughter waiting for the public bus to the local library, the times they would raid their friends houses without warning, just crashing on the couch and playing games of all types. Lots of those friends had moved, he was reminded. He hadn’t seen or heard from them in years now, no matter how desperately he tried to keep in contact. He wondered how they were doing; what they would think of the person he’d become. He passed the turn off that would go to that park, the one right outside their old house, the one they held countless parties at, the ones that reminded him of that happy mindless joy he hadn’t felt in years. He remembered those friends who had just stopped talking with him, those people who gradually grew apart from him, the ones he had falling outs with. He kept walking, picking up his pace as he grew colder and felt his eyes overflow.

He passed the library, electing to ignore the flood of memories of booking the study rooms that they would mess around in, they rarely actually got their homework done, electing to sing showtunes on the table and listen to two of their friends play the ukulele together, teasing each other about crushes they had, complaining about the teachers they disliked, ending the excursion with hugs as one by one they went home. He kept walking and walking until his feet stopped fully by the on ramp of the freeway. He jumped over the small barrier, sitting with his legs dangling over the interstate, his arms looped around the bars behind him. He had done it countless times before, enjoying the rushing sound the cars made as they slipped by under him. It was different this time, almost imperceptibly to anyone else. The tear tracks on his cheeks were clear, invisible to the glancing eye. The fidgeting kick of his legs was ever so slightly more erratic. His grip on the bars were ever so slightly tighter, yet also the loosest hold he could have. He leant forward, feeling the wind rush through his hair as he slowly lost feeling in his arms.

Numbly, he registered the sound of the bars tinging, the sound that comes from another person jumping over the rail as well. He felt a warm jacket be wrapped round him. He loosely felt his neck turn to look at the other person, recognizing him immediately. It was one of his peers, his name was Logan, he thought. He was in all the same accelerated courses that he was in. They had spoken a few times out of necessity, but they hadn’t really been close. Roman wasn’t close to anyone really, not anymore.

He had been in fights with all the kids who were a grade above him, his old best friend didn’t even invite him to their graduation. No goodbye, no hugs, no texts to make plans to see each other again, no “H.A.G.S. you nerd ;)” written on each other’s yearbooks, just, slipping away as if their relationship had meant nothing. It was painful. The friends he had in his grade weren’t quite as dramatic. They just, stopped liking the same things. They drifted apart. Its wasn’t sudden, he could have done something. But he didn’t. he just, stood by as his friends were more like strangers as days went by. He remembered sitting in the back of the game store, playing DND and magic and spinoffs and rip-offs, until they got kicked out at closing time. Now they barely looked his way when they passed in the halls, too busy with new friends, better friends.

“what’s on your mind?”

He was ripped out of his thoughts by Logan, who had a sympathetic look in his eyes. He looked down at the cars and numbly pulled the jacket that was wrapped around him on fully, relishing in the warmth it radiated. He replaced his arms around the bars carefully before answering.

“a lot. Nothing you need to worry about.”

“considering how close you look to plummeting into the interstate, and the fact that you now have my jacket, I think it is.”

Roman looked at him with a searching eye, seeing the smirk that came as he made his second point, and realizing that he was stuck now.

“… I’m just depressed. That’s all. Its nothing outstanding. I just feel alone.”

“that’s fair. Do you want to talk about it?”

“why do you care? I barely know you; you have no reason to be concerned about me. I might as well just be another number in a statistic they tell middle schoolers to scare them.”

Logan looked thoughtful for a moment before responding slowly and carefully.

“every statistic is made from real lives that matter. Every statistic relies on those data points. No matter how you feel, you are more important than a number on a graph. You have people who care about you. Your brain is deceiving you in making you-”

“yeah yeah, I know people care for me and all that junk. I know that. It just doesn’t matter. They’ll get over it. They’ll… they’ll forget about me sooner than they’d think. I’d be fresh in their minds for less than a year. They’d be sad on the anniversary for anther three maybe. They’d get over it. They’d function better than I am currently. They’d dwell less than me. they’d be better off.”

“you don’t really believe that do you?”

“… just because I don’t believe it doesn’t mean its not true. Did you know that 15 women an hour are hit in Nike manufacturing factories? Completely unbelievable. Completely true.”

“Roman you matter more than you expect. There are people who would be devastated for years if you died. I could bet there’d be another two suicides that would domino if you let go right now. There are people who only have you left, and if you were gone, they’d feel just as hopeless as you do now. This is high school, this isn’t permanent. Don’t you want to live to see how right everyone was about college? Don’t you want to live to be able to go to a karaoke bar with your college friends? Don’t you want to live to fall in love again? To see Lin Manuel Mirandas newest Broadway hit? To be able to go see a Broadway show live instead of from a shitty pirated video on YouTube? There’s so much to live for, they may be small, but they’re there. Do really want to give up before you can hear your mom say she loves you again?”

Roman felt tears welling up and spilling over his cheeks. He wanted so desperately to just believe him. To give in to the idea that he mattered. But he just couldn’t. Not yet.

“why do you think I care about all that, huh? You don’t know me Logan, you don’t know how I feel.”

“who says I don’t?”

Roman blinked, looking back at him. Logan continued.

“who says, that I haven’t walked past this interstate every day, wanting so desperately to throw myself off, but not because I knew I had to hold on for my little brother, who has been suffering from clinical depression. Who says I haven’t held on to just hear my favorite teacher again? Who says I haven’t seen you every day since third grade with that brilliant smile and stunning passion singing through the halls, that I didn’t notice when it slowed, when it was a treat to hear your voice, that I didn’t notice when it stopped all together, when you dropped choir and threw yourself into your studies so much that you rarely smiled other than that little hint when you got good news that dropped just as quickly. Who says I never overheard when you blasted Hamilton just a little too loud in your headphones at lunch? Who says I cant name every single person in the school who is waiting for that one person to give up so they can feel like they are allowed to go with them, who feel like they only have that one thread holding them here and as soon as they’re gone there’s no point left in living. Who says I’m not one of them? Roman I know you feel alone, I understand, but you don’t know just how much of a ripple you make. You matter so much to so many people. Please, please don’t let go. Jump back over to the other side of the railing with me and go home.”

Roman could hear the pleading in Logan’s voice. He wasn’t sure if he really believed it all, if he really felt like it was worth it to back off, but he couldn’t handle how depressed and lost he sounded, how jaded. He stood and leaped back over, smiling softly when Logan did the same. He started to pull off the jacket when he was stopped again.

“hey, don’t worry about it, I live close by. You can return it to me on Tuesday.”

There was a glint in his eyes and Roman chuckled at the kind-hearted trick. Because he knew that Roman would make a point of returning it, which meant he would have to make it to Tuesday. He nodded, and after a second’s hesitation, wrapped Logan in a hug. whispering a ‘thank you’ before turning to walk home. If he had eyes in the back of his head, he would have seen the longing glance Logan made at the on ramp, and the set glance back at him, before he turned the opposite way.

-

On Tuesday things would be better. He would have talked with his parents and come to an understanding, he would have accomplished things he had wanted to, and he would be in generally higher spirits. He would let a smile slip more often, his true genuine one with his teeth on display, and he would laugh at the stupid silly jokes he heard. He would have his head up more, he would notice the smiles from friends he thought long estranged and start up a conversation, inviting some of them to a mall crawl later after school.

He would return Logan’s jacket and ignore the weird looks people gave him. He would talk more freely, he would joke with Logan about comic books and their latest obsessions, he would sit with Logan at lunch, he would get his phone back and steal Logan’s number. He would talk with his online friends about how he had felt when everyone had left the groups, and hear them out, instead of jumping to conclusions that they hated him now. He would let himself feel. He would let himself be okay. Things wouldn’t get better immediately, but he would work at it.

He would let himself live, and fall in love, and cry. He would heal. He wouldn’t let go. He wouldn’t give up. Not on Tuesday. Not the month after. Not after he went on a less than perfect date with Logan, when it started raining and the highway flooded leaving them stranded at home stuck watching old Disney movies on his couch. Not when a month after that he didn’t get a role in the school play and he spent an hour crying on the phone with Logan. No, he wasn’t going to feel great all the time, but things would get better. Logan was right all that time ago. The pain he feels isn’t permanent. He would be okay.


End file.
